Envoys of the Gods
by enchantedsleeper
Summary: What if Miguel and Tulio’s discovery of El Dorado wasn’t luck, but in fact something more like… divine intervention?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: **So I started this a looong time ago… back when I wrote 'You Fight Like My Sister!' if anyone remembers that… but I hit a block so I stopped and forgot about it. Much later, I came back and read it, and thought, 'Hey, this has a lot more potential than I remember!' so I decided to continue. Although it took me a while after that to actually finish a chapter, and I'm not sure where it's going after this. x3 It was originally meant to be a one-shot, but… it mutated?

The bits in italics are, as you'll see, my own descriptions of relevant scenes from the film. I've never read the official novelisation, so no details from that will appear in this, and if the writing itself coincides… then yay me? o.O

**A Note on Pronunciation: **Any 'x's that are in people's names are intended to be pronounced like a harsh 'h' in the back of your throat – the same as 'j' is in Spanish for anyone familiar with that language. So not like the English 'cs' sound.

Also, I put a Spanish-type accent on 'Mixél' to indicate that the stress falls on the second syllable of the name (i.e. miXEL). It's probably unnecessary, but it looks better with than without x3

**Disclaimer: **The Road to El Dorado and related awesomeness is © DreamWorks Pictures. Only the names of the two gods are mine… and I based them off existing Aztec gods, so… it's all a bunch of stolen- er, _borrowed_ ideas really ^.~

**Envoys of the Gods**

"Mixél! It's your turn to watch El Dorado!"

The strumming of the mandolin didn't cease, and the bearded god reclining on a bank of cloud showed no sign of having heard. Tuloztequi raised his voice further.

"Mixél! MIXÉL!"

Finally the music stopped, and Mixelcoatl – to give him his full name – looked up.

"Already?" he complained, giving rise to the suspicion that he had been able to hear all along.

"Yes, already."

"But El Dorado is so boring!" protested Mixél, even as he stood up and walked over to sit by the other god. "I mean, it's a beautiful city, but nothing ever happens there. There's no _adventure_."

"Good," replied Tulo (to use the shorter nickname given him by Mixél). "Adventure is _not_ something we need right now. Besides, we have to keep an eye on Tzekel-Kan. He has the potential to do some serious damage."

"Is he still going on about that Age of the Jaguar thing?" asked Mixél, peering into the 'window' in the clouds that Tulo had created, showing them the city of El Dorado. "The cleansing of the city and all that?"

"Yes, he is." Together the creators of El Dorado watched as Tzekel-Kan made another of his frenzied, doom-laden predictions about the 'Age of the Jaguar' and the supposed coming of the gods to El Dorado.

"And I thought Otul-kan was bad, coming up with all that crazy stuff about the Age of the Jaguar in the first place," said Mixél. "This guy is even worse! He actually believes it and is willing to do something to bring it about!"

"Exactly, which is why we need to watch him and make sure he doesn't harm El Dorado. Of course, it would be better if we could get rid of him altogether."

"And we can't just smite him?" asked Mixél, returning to an earlier topic of conversation. "We could strike him down with a lightning bolt; no one would have to know that the gods did it-"

"_No_," replied Tulo flatly. "We have - to be - _subtle_. Gods aren't allowed to involved themselves in human affairs, you know that."

"So we get someone else to do the dirty work for us?" summarised Mixél with distaste. Tulo smirked slightly.

"Basically."

Mixél sighed. "Sometimes I wish something bad _would_ happen just to make things interesting," he grumbled. "Or that we could watch over a land with some exciting things happening. Like Spain!"

He positioned his finger over the clouds and traced circles in the air; the dense cloud became transparent, revealing a man astride a white horse making an announcement in the street. He had a goblet of water in one hand, and crowds of people were gathered around to hear what he had to say.

"_Today, we sail to conquer the New World!" declared Cortez. "For Spain. For glory. For gold!" He thrust the goblet into the air as the crowds cheered and shouted._

"_Viva Cortez!" A line of men in armour raised their rifles into the air and fired a celebratory rain of bullets. The shots startled Cortez' horse, which reared in fright. Cortez snarled and yanked on the reins._

"_Al Tivo! Eyes forward," he ordered._

"Maybe it's Cortez we should be watching," suggested Mixél hopefully. "This 'New World' he's talking about is dangerously close to El Dorado."

Tulo dismissed this with a shake of the head. "He'd never find the entrance to the city even if it was right in front of him," he said. "We hid our paradise well. We need to focus on the dangers _inside_ the city." He was attempting to bring the conversation back to its original track, but Mixél was no longer listening, distracted by what he was seeing through the window.

"Tulo, look! Those two look just like us!"

Tulo frowned and peered over at the window, which showed a nearby but far more run-down alley, enclosed by high buildings on all sides. It was an ideal area to conduct shady deals and sordid business out of sight of the law, and that appeared to be what was going on.

"_Seven!"_

"_All right!"_

_The red dice landed on the street, once again showing the magic combination of five and two. Two men, evidently gamblers on a winning streak, were dancing, celebrating their victory. One had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and the other had shorter blonde hair and a beard. He was also strumming a mandolin._

"Not particularly," said Tulo, thinking that the mandolin was the main resemblance between Mixél and his mortal 'counterpart'. "They're definitely not gods, anyway."

Mixél smiled, his eyes still on the alleyway scene. "They don't seem to realise that."

Tulo shook his head and resigned himself to an extra-long shift of watching over El Dorado. He didn't understand his partner's fascination with mortals and their doings. Tulo watched people for a purpose, to solve a problem or prevent one from arising. Mixél just loved to watch people.

Tulo began banging his head against the palm of his hand, trying to think of a solution to the Tzekel-Kan problem. If the high priest had been a normal human, he wouldn't be such a threat, but all those of the Kan lineage had been granted special powers by the gods, in order that they might protect the city, and communicate with the inhabitants of the spirit world. The fact that he was something more than human fuelled Tzekel-Kan's dislike for ordinary people. He had begun to abuse his powers lately, and although he claimed to be 'speaking' for the gods and acting on their orders, in fact he was doing nothing of the sort.

"Tulo!" said Mixél suddenly, sharply. Tulo was annoyed at being interrupted, but something in Mixél's tone told him this was serious, and not just the interesting coincidence of two mortals resembling the gods.

"What?" he asked, examining the window without waiting for an answer. Now the two gamblers' attention was caught by a square of illustrated parchment, held up by a large, bald and rather dirty man. Tulo realised it was a map, and his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the words 'El Dorado' written at the bottom. This was what had alarmed Mixél.

"_A map of the wonders of the new world," said the man. The blonde gambler's interest was piqued. _

"_Wow! Let's have a look." He perused the map, muttering to himself in excitement, finally snatching it away and burying his head in it. His companion began to walk away, uninterested, but the blonde pulled him back, causing him to pitch headfirst into the map._

"_Excuse us for one moment, please?" said the black-haired man to their opponents._

"_Tulio, look!" said the fair-haired man, patting the map. "El Dorado – the city of gold. This could be our destiny, our fate."_

"He sounds like you," commented Tulo dryly. "Destiny, fate, forces outside our control – even that of the _gods_!" He raised his eyebrows to show what he thought of _that_ idea.

"_Miguel, if I believed in fate I wouldn't be playing with loaded __**dice**__." Tulio opened his hand to reveal the red dice, still displaying the winning five and two._

"And he sounds like you," replied Mixél, amused. "Ever the voice of reason. Even their names are similar to ours!" His face was alight with excitement. The idea of gods remaining aloof, detaching themselves from earthly affairs, meant nothing to Mixél. He couldn't help but be interested in humans, always wanting to intervene, to help people.

"You want _them_ to be the ones to go to El Dorado," said Tulo, staring at Mixél. He was only just catching on to his partner's train of thought, which as usual was running away with itself. "And get rid of Tzekel-Kan?"

"Well, why not?" pressed Mixél, warming to his idea. "They could pass for us! It's not like the citizens of El Dorado have ever seen what we look like. And it's not as if Tzekel-Kan has a genuine connection to the spirit world any more. He won't know the difference."

"Tzekel-Kan might be-"

"A madman," filled in Mixél.

"-misguided, but he's no fool. Whereas these men…" Tulo waved a hand at the window, where the gamblers were preparing to roll for the map – but using genuine, unloaded dice. It was possible that all this would come to nothing in just a few seconds.

Mixél could tell the direction of Tulo's thoughts. "All we have to do is tip the dice, to make sure they land on seven," he said. "From there we can let things take their own course, if you like!" He widened his eyes in a pleading expression.

"No, no, not the face! Stop it! We're not supposed to interfere with events in lands besides our own, unless it has a direct consequence for our domain." He could have been quoting straight from the Rulebook of the Gods. If there was such a thing.

"It _could_ have a direct consequence!"

"_Show… me… seven," ground out Tulio from between tightly-gritted teeth. He rolled the dice across the ground._

Mixél was still staring at Tulo, entreating him. "All right! Fine! Do what you have to do," said Tulo in exasperation, turning away to let Mixél know that he was having nothing to do with this. Mixél beamed, and from below came cries of surprise and delight.

"_SEVEN!"_

"_All __**RIGHT**__!"_

"If anyone asks about this, I saw nothing. And all I heard was your usual crazy talk," said Tulo, still with his back turned. Even when he didn't agree with what Mixél was doing, they were still partners – in it together.

"They won't ask," said Mixél confidently, leaning back against the clouds once more. "It's only dice! You worry far too much."

"You can never worry too much," replied Tulo, as always.

The day wore on, and even Tulo became bored with watching affairs in El Dorado progress like clockwork. Tzekel-Kan had subsided, and was now closeted back in his cave-like personal quarters, offering up chants and prayers to the gods. Tulo had tuned out after yet another entreaty for the gods to hand over power from the 'unworthy non-believer' (meaning Chief Tanabok) to the 'truly faithful' (meaning Tzekel-Kan) when they finally made their appearance in El Dorado.

Mixél was still absorbed in watching the escapades of the two gamblers. Judging by his exclamations and occasional commentary, their fortunes had taken an interesting turn since gambling for the map, and they were now prisoners aboard the ship of – who else? – the ruthless warlord Cortez. There was probably irony in that somewhere.

As night fell in Spain and their mortal counterparts slept, Mixél began strumming his mandolin again. In El Dorado, it was still early afternoon, and yet Tulo didn't ask Mixél to take over the watch. There really was nothing happening… and anyway, it was such a nice peaceful tune… it wasn't worth starting up another argument.

_The afternoon sun lit up the deck of Cortez' ship with a golden glow, and Al Tivo the war horse looked up expectantly as the ship's cook passed by, whistling and carrying a basket of apples._

"_Hey, Al Tivo! __Ah-ta-ta-ta, not for you. You're on half rations! Orders from Cortez."_

_One of the apples slipped from its perch on top of the pile and fell down through the grate, into the brig – straight into the lap of Miguel, causing him to wake with a start. He stared at it for a second, and then looked over at Tulio, who was rhythmically banging his head against a post, as he was wont to do when trying to think of a plan._

"_So how's the, er, how's the escape plan coming?" asked Miguel tentatively. Tulio paused and turned his head to reveal a black eye for his troubles._

"_All right. All right, wait! I'm getting something!"_

"_Yeah."_

Tulo watched this scene from over Mixél's shoulder, and shook his head. "Those two are never going to get out of there like that."

Mixél smiled, and Tulo felt a sudden sense of foreboding. "It's funny you should say that, because I was thinking exactly the same thing!" Tulo instantly recognised the tone Mixél used when he was trying to get something he wanted. "Would it _really_ be interfering if we just helped them out a little, like, say-"

Tulo didn't even let him complete the sentence. "Yes. It would."

"_Really?_" Mixél made The Face again, but Tulo wasn't budging this time.

"Yes, really." Mixél tried different variations on The Face, from waggling his eyebrows to sticking his bottom lip out and pretending to start crying, but all to no avail. Eventually he gave up and turned back to the window. The two swindlers were really at their last resort: Miguel had his face pressed to the bars of the grate, trying to bargain with the horse Al Tivo and persuade it to bring them a pry-bar in exchange for the apple. As Mixél (and Tulo, whilst trying not to look too interested) watched, the horse cantered away and made straight for the cabin belonging to Cortez himself. The door to the cabin was propped open, exposing a row of hooks nailed to the inside, on which hung several rings of keys. Unnoticed by the rest of the crew, Al Tivo stretched up and closed his teeth around one of the rings, gently easing it up and over the hook.

"Mixél!" said Tulo sharply. "That definitely counts as interfering!"

"What?" asked Mixél in genuine confusion. "I didn't do anything, I swear!"

Tulo stared dumbly at the horse, which was now trotting back to the grate with the keys in its mouth. It dropped them through the bars and neighed proudly; Tulio and Miguel gaped down at the keys with equal surprise.

"_Well," said Tulio finally. "It's __not__ a pry bar."_

_Miguel shrugged._

"…That's one smart horse," commented Tulo. Mixél grinned as if he'd just received a personal compliment.

"He is, isn't he? I knew it as soon as I saw him."

Tulo rolled his eyes. "I'll bet you did."

Unfortunately, it appeared that the horse wasn't quite smart enough to know that he needed to keep quiet whilst the fugitives, under cover of night, crept out of the brig and began loading a small longboat with rations. The horse started by nudging the blonde mortal – Miguel – urgently from behind; when that didn't work, he reared up on his hind legs, neighing loudly. Tulo tried not to show that he was watching as the scene unfolded before them, not that Mixél would have noticed one way or another; he was too engrossed, leaning over the cloud-window and muttering, "He wants the apple! Give him the apple!"

"_Oh! He wants his apple," Miguel realised._

"_Well, give it to him before he wakes up the whole ship!" Tulio took the apple and tossed it high into the air. "Fetch!"_

_The apple flew into the air, then somehow contrived to fall onto a sail and bounce off it – narrowly missing a sleeping guard – hit the top of a second sail, rebound off that, then whirl around on the end of a telescope for a second before plunging over the side – right past the slowly-escaping Spaniards._

"Okay, don't try to tell me you didn't have anything to do with that one," said Tulo. Mixél looked at him and grinned sheepishly.

"It was just a little bit of fun. I hardly even had to do anything! I just wanted to see if I could make it hit–"

He was interrupted by a loud splash from the world below them. Mixél turned back to the window in alarm, and Tulo discovered that the speech he had preparing on 'The Consequences Of Interfering With The Mortal World – Yes, Even A Little Bit' was unnecessary as said consequences were being enacted below them – and it didn't look good.

"This is terrible!" exclaimed Mixél. "I have to–"

"Oh, no you don't," interrupted Tulo.

"What? But I can't just sit and–"

"Yes, you can."

"Are you even going to let–?"

"No, I'm not going to let you finish your sentence."

A glaring contest between the two gods ensued, which Tulo broke by being the one to draw Mixél's attention to the window, instead of the other way around, for the first time. "Look! See, the situation resolved itself."

Mixél peered suspiciously at the window, not believing it until he saw for himself that the two mortals _and_ the horse were now safe and sound, reclining wet and exhausted but alive in the bottom of the boat. His face cleared immediately. "Ah! Well, then! All's well that ends well." He picked up his mandolin and began strumming it.

"_Did any of the supplies make it?"_

"_Well um… yes and no."_

Tulo glowered at him. His friend's relentless optimism often got on his nerves, not least because he never seemed to learn from his mistakes.

"_Ohhhh, GREAT!" Tulio exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air and then burying his face in them._

Tulo knew just how he was feeling. Maybe the two mortals were more like himself and Mixél than he'd first thought.

"_Tulio, look on the positive side! At least things can't get any–"_

_With impeccable comic timing and unnatural suddenness, a tremendous downpour started – as if someone up there just couldn't resist proving Miguel wrong._

The strumming ceased abruptly. "**TULO**!!" came the indignant shout.

Tuloztequi flopped back onto a large cloud and laughed his head off.

**Author's Notes:** And there you have it. Stay tuned for more… when I can be bothered to write it. x3 Also, I have a question which might seem kind of stupid, but I can't decide – how much like Miguel and Tulio should the two gods look? Because in the opening animation they're shown as having purple skin, hair, etc… do you think they really look like that, or is that artistic license?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: **OMG THAT'S NEVER AN UPDATE!

OMG IT SO IS!

**Disclaimer: **The Road to El Dorado and related awesomeness is © DreamWorks Pictures. I don't own any of the mythological personae featured here either (does anyone?) The names of the gods and the horse-thing are sort of mine, but based off existing Aztec words and names.

* * *

**Envoys of the Gods**

**Chapter Two**

_Miguel and Tulio's oddly fluctuating fortunes continued for several days, almost as if their fate was the subject of a dispute up there in the heavens. Sometimes the weather was wonderfully calm, the sun beating down from a clear blue sky, and Miguel and Tulio sweated and strained with the oars as Al Tivo sat haughtily in the back of the boat. At other times the sky turned black with clouds which poured down freezing rain as the waves towered around them, and Miguel and Tulio scrambled for the oars just to prevent them from falling overboard._

_After what Tulio determined was five days – though in Miguel's opinion it was more like five months – of travelling, the sparse food supplies that they had begun with were finally gone, and Miguel and Tulio felt weak with hunger. Tulio's idea of sticking an oar handle into the water as a makeshift fishing rod hadn't yielded any fish. It seemed like the only way they were going to get any food was if it fell down from the sky into their laps._

_The dying shrieks of a seagull as it flew down to perch on one of their oars didn't immediately register to the weary travellers. It landed, coughed up bile and then slumped over, dead. Slowly, it began to dawn on Miguel and Tulio – and even Al Tivo, who was normally a strict vegetarian – that here was a meal, practically ready made! They licked their lips as Tulio stretched out a hand towards the seagull–_

_–at that instant a great white shark reared up out of the depths of the ocean, bit off the seagull, oar handle and all, and then sank back into the water._

"**TULO!**" shouted Mixél in exasperation for what seemed like the fiftieth time. "That was UNCALLED FOR! What are you doing – do you want them to _die?_"

Tulo shrugged, unrepentant. Using the mortals that Mixél was so fond of in order to get at him was childish, he knew. But hadn't it had the desired effect?

"It's your turn to watch El Dorado," he pointed out, feeling the slight echo of _déjà vu_ – or more accurately, _déjà __dit_ – as he uttered the same words that had started off this whole mess.

Mixél glared at him with narrowed eyes and didn't budge. "I don't trust you. You'll sink the boat or something while I'm not watching."

Tulo held up his hands in a gesture of honesty. "Upon my word, I won't. I'm not trying to kill them. I just thought they should … try and get their own food. We can't go giving them handouts _all _the time."

Mixél still looked slightly suspicious, but nodded. "All right then, budge over." The two gods swapped places on the clouds and Mixél peered down through the window into El Dorado.

"What's Chel up to? She looks like she's planning to run away."

Tulo rolled his eyes. "I think she is, though how she thinks she'll make it past the gate when no civilian ever has before is beyond me."

"No civilian has made it past the gate before because you haven't let them," said Mixél.

"Exactly, and I'm not going to let Chel do it either. Think of what a risk she'd be, running around outside the city! She might disclose its location, and then where would we be?"

Mixél's brow creased in frustration. "Her father _beats_ her, Tulo!"

"He uses corporal punishment to discipline her," corrected Tulo, "and rightly too. She's a little sneak-thief. You weren't watching when she stole those jade earrings from a stall in the marketplace."

"And he's marrying her off to that ugly Zakiri guy!"

"He's a friend of the family! They're of an age, he's sensible and reliable. It's a good match."

Mixél pouted in defeat and slumped against the bank of cloud. "It's supposed to be a paradise, not a prison," he muttered under his breath

Tulo heard him, but ignored him, and ignored the uneasy twinge of his conscience that came from knowing Mixél was right.

The pair alternated shifts of watching El Dorado, switching over each time the sun moved a quarter of the way through the sky. Tzekel-Kan made sacrifices to the gods and prayed and pored over his books of magic. Chel succeeded in sneaking into the Temple of the Gods – far too easily, in Tulo's opinion; those guards were growing lax. But she didn't steal anything, only examined the elaborately carved pillars and golden statues with keen interest. The head of one of the statues had come loose, and Chel took it from its alcove and turned it over in her hands speculatively before replacing it and making a mental note of its location, as if this had been a practice run for later. Tulo didn't like what she was obviously planning to do. Even Mixél wasn't keen on the idea of her defacing their temple. "Though it's not as if we're ever going to inhabit it."

"It's the _principle_ of it. It's sacrilegious!"

Mixél was more concerned with the fate of Miguel and Tulio, whose predicament was growing increasingly hopeless. They still hadn't managed to obtain any food, and they had no idea at all where they were going, their boat drifting aimlessly in the middle of the ocean.

_Tulio summoned up all his strength, sat up and grabbed one of the oars. "Come on, we need to row this thing," he said._

_Miguel nodded and took hold of the other oar. "On the count of three."_

_"One –"_

_"Two –"_

_"Three! HEAVE!"_

_Miguel heaved on his oar; Tulio heaved on his, and the uncoordinated, alternating oar strokes turned the boat in endless circles. Al Tivo couldn't even be bothered to let them know._

"It is pretty pathetic," admitted Tulo as the gods looked down on the labouring mortals.

"It'd be such a shame for their journey to just end here," said Mixél. "They're not actually that far from El Dorado."

"Yes, but what exactly did you plan for them to do once they got to the city? Even if they managed to impersonate us – and I don't think Chief Tani would be fooled – how could they get rid of Tzekel Kan? He still has powers and knowledge, the likes of which they could never imagine."

"But so do we!" Mixél reminded him. "Our powers are greater than Tzekel Kan's by far. Miguel and Tulio might not be us, but if we act through them, what difference does it make?"

Tulo couldn't think of much to counter that one. He still had reservations about interfering too much in the mortal world, but he couldn't very well use that argument what with all the storms he'd conjured up, and the shark trick earlier.

"We still need to be subtle," he replied finally.

Mixél smiled, victorious. "How about we start by giving their boat a subtle nudge in the right direction? It won't take much; the currents will do the rest.

Tulo sighed and moved his hand; below them, Miguel and Tulio's boat moved as well.

A little while later, Mixél was taking his turn with El Dorado and Tulo was keeping an eye on their mortal counterparts when both heard a voice calling from somewhere below them. The gods looked at each other, startled, and simultaneously glanced into their respective windows, but the sound wasn't coming from Earth.

"It's coming from downstairs," Tulo realised, scrambling to his feet. "I'll get it. You carry on keeping watch."

He picked his way over the clouds, avoiding Mixél's discarded mandolin, and descended the stairs that led down to the lower level of their cloudy abode. There, a little way off, was a young god waiting with a scroll in his hand. The other hand held a distinctive staff, topped with a pair of wings, two snakes entwined around it. As Tulo took in the god's winged helmet, winged sandals and messenger's satchel, he realised that this was the famous messenger of the gods; what was his name… Herpes? No, Hermes. Or Mercury, that was right, depending on where you came from.

"Finally," said Hermes impatiently. "I didn't expect to have to stand around waiting for longer than it took me to get here. Though I am the fastest god there is, so I suppose that's to be expected."

"Er, sorry about that," said Tulo, though he disliked having to apologise to such a rude young god. _He_ didn't look like he had ever had to create and maintain a hidden paradise. "You have a message for us."

"Yes. In fact, a summons from the Almighty Himself," replied Hermes, unfurling the scroll. "He requests your immediate presence."

Tulo felt as if his stomach had dropped down to his feet. "The Almighty," he repeated. "_The_ Almighty?"

"The God of all gods?" asked Mixél from just behind him, making Tulo jump.

"Yes, yes; King of Kings, Lord of Lords, all that jazz," said Hermes. "He wants to see you two."

"What about?" asked Mixél nervously. Hermes shrugged.

"Message doesn't say, and I didn't ask. If you want someone in the know, ask one of His precious angels. _They_ don't get sent on errands. Too busy appearing in dreams and singing hymns and being oh-so shiny and wonderful…" Hermes continued to grumble as he rolled the scroll back up, put it in the satchel and took off in a blur of fluttering wings.

Mixél and Tulo stared after him in silence for a few seconds before Tulo said, "You were supposed to keep watching El Dorado."

Mixél waved a hand in dismissal. "It can look after itself for two minutes. I wanted to see who the visitor was. It's been a few centuries since anyone came to see us."

Tulo managed a slight, grim smile. "Well, I'd rather if this one hadn't come to see us, to be honest."

"You don't suppose… it might _not_ be about the… interferences?" Mixél suggested tentatively.

Tulo turned a bleak gaze on him. "What else could it be about?" And of course, there was nothing else. The two gods stood there, trying to imagine what kind of punishment could be in store for them – something so horrible that the Almighty Himself had to deal it out. Tulo couldn't help but think about what had happened to Loki.

Neither of them had ever even _seen_ the Almighty. Hadn't quite believed that He existed, though with all the different gods of all the different nations and religions, Mixél supposed that there had to be someone overseeing it all. But two lowly gods in charge of a single city could never have expected to meet Him. What would He even look like?

"I suppose we ought to get going," Mixél said eventually. "Or else we might miss our appointment. Given that the summons was for 'right now', we might have already missed it." He forced a weak chuckle.

Tulo roused himself from a stupor of despair. "We can't both go," he said. "Someone has to watch El Dorado."

"The summons was for both of us," Mixél pointed out. "Do you want to want to risk angering Him even more?" Tulo shuddered and shook his head.

Moments later, they had mounted their steed Coatlitialin (Alin for short) and set off along the winding golden road that led to the rest of Heaven.

"How will we know when we get there?" asked Mixél from his seat behind Tulo.

"It's got huge pearly gates, right? Shouldn't be that hard to spot."

As it turned out, there were even signposts, of a sort: little posts of pearl with a wing pointing in the right direction. The gods took a chance and followed them, and their guess was proven correct as they began to see angels flying past in all directions, bent on some heavenly mission. "If we head towards where they all seem to be coming from, we should find it," said Tulo.

They navigated their way through the traffic as the road began to rise steeply in a series of hills. Tulo and Mixél craned their necks back and saw, at the top of the highest hill, a gigantic pair of gates outlined across the sky. It was intimidating.

As they got closer they could see a figure leaning against the gates, like a guard who never moved, holding an enormous key. That had to be St. Peter.

Alin glided up to the gates and Tulo dismounted to speak to St. Peter, feeling slightly dizzy after going up and down all those hills. Seeing him approach, St. Peter unleaned himself from the gates and came to meet him, smiling in a polite but curious manner.

"Hello," he said. "You two don't look like departed souls. Can I help you with something?"

"We're not," said Tulo. "We're gods."

"We've come to see the Almighty," called Mixél helpfully.

St. Peter's brow furrowed. "Oh… I see. Well, if you have a complaint, please direct it to one of His seraphs, and we will get back to you in due course."

It was Tulo's turn to frown. "No… no complaint. He… He summoned us personally."

St. Peter looked perplexed. "Oh… He did? Really? Well, I suppose I'd better let you in then…" He walked reluctantly over to the gates and began to undo the large padlock which joined them, and unwind the chain which bound them together.

"Yes, I suppose you'd better," muttered Tulo as he walked back to where Mixél and Alin waited and climbed back up in front of Mixél.

"Do they often get gods complaining to the Almighty?" whispered Mixél, puzzled.

"Maybe… That Hermes guy sounded like he had a few complaints to make," Tulo replied.

With the chain removed, the gates swung open without a sound and Tulo spurred Alin through them. Mixél looked back over his shoulder to see St. Peter, who was watching them go with an expression of distaste.

"What's his problem?" he asked. "Why doesn't he like us?"

"Probably because we're the 'pagan gods' they're trying to get people to stop believing in," said Tulo. "I mean, you heard about what's happening with Christianity, right? It's replacing all the old religions. I bet the reason why Hermes was so annoyed is because he doesn't like having to be messenger boy for the Almighty when he used to be a god in his own right." As he spoke, they began to see – over the crest of yet _another_ hill – a magnificent, sparkling palace of gold and silver to rival the most beautiful Earth architecture.

"But what's wrong with people believing in us?" Mixél persisted. "We exist, and we look after them. We deserve to be paid homage to! I'm not so keen on the sacrifices; they can stop doing those, but … stop _believing _in us?"

Tulo was silent for a while. "I suppose it's because… when people believe in us, it means they don't believe in…" He indicated the palace that was looming steadily in front of them. "And He doesn't like that."

"_Well_, He'll just have to-" began Mixél, but stopped as an angel flew past them.

"Sshh. We have to be careful now we're close. You never know who might be able to hear us," whispered Tulo.

The gods felt steadily smaller and smaller as they approached the palace. It wasn't a feeling they were used to. The palace wasn't excessively grand or elaborate, but it radiated a sense of… _majesty_ that dimmed everything else around it. Even the shining angels gathered around in front of it looked like dull bronze in comparison to the palace itself. As for Mixél and Tulo, they felt very out of place, primitive and gaudy in the face of all this radiance. The angels fell silent and stared as they passed. The gods expected to be stopped at the door by some guard or official – Gabriel or Uriel or one of those – but no one prevented them from riding through the open doors of the palace into the entrance hall.

Inside the palace was much the same as outside. The décor was of a different colour: mainly white with only the occasional accent of gold or silver, but it still gave off the same feeling of almost unbearable purity. If anything, the feeling of – _holiness_ was the only word to describe it – was stronger indoors. Mixél and Tulo felt as if the very walls of the palace knew everything they'd ever done wrong. It was enough to make them, two gods, want to slink off into a corner and hide.

Just as they were considering turning Alin around and riding as quickly as possible in the other direction, the spell was broken somewhat by the sight of a bearded giant hunched over a desk in the middle of the hall, looking even more uncomfortable in his own skin than they were currently feeling. Mixél and Tulo would have recognised him instantly even without the thunderbolt he was using to write with.

Glancing at Mixél, Tulo dismounted again and tentatively approached the desk. "Er… Zeus? Jupiter?"

"Call me whatever you will, it hardly matters any more," said Zeus without looking up, in a voice that rumbled like thunder yet sounded utterly defeated. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Er…" Tulo looked back at Mixél again, who shrugged. "I'm not sure. We were just summoned here."

Zeus looked up at them. His black eyes were still hard and powerful, but they lacked the fire they'd held when he was King of the Greek and Roman gods. "Mixelcoatl and Tuloztequi. The gods of El Dorado," he said in recognition, sounding almost friendly.

"You've heard of us?" asked Tulo in surprise. He could have sworn he saw Zeus's mouth twitch.

"Just in passing. Go on ahead. I will look after the… snake thing… until you return."

"Thanks," said Tulo and motioned to Mixél. Mixél jumped down from Alin's back, but instead of following Tulo, he stood and stared at Zeus, who had returned to writing in some sort of register.

"Mixél, come on," hissed Tulo.

"Zeus…" began Mixél. "Why are you here? Why aren't you watching over your kingdom?"

Zeus pressed down hard with the thunderbolt and sparks flew everywhere. _"**What kingdom**_?_" _he growled furiously.

"Mixél!" Tulo took the other god by the arm and pulled him forcibly past the desk and out of the entrance hall. Once they were outside, he said, "Remember that little voice that we talked about before, that stops people from saying stupid stuff?"

"I don't have one," said Mixél sullenly, pulling his arm out of Tulo's grip. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe it, I mean _Zeus_… of all the gods… doing _secretary_ work!"

"I know," sighed Tulo. "Come on, we need to try and find out which room God's in. Maybe there's an angel or something we can a-"

He broke off as shouts sounded from down the corridor. Mixél and Tulo looked around for the source of the commotion, and it was soon revealed in the form of a goddess, being hauled along the corridor by two burly men in white robes, shouting in a strongly-accented voice. She was beautiful and tempestuous, like the storms she created, with tanned skin, flashing eyes and – literally – flaming red hair. The men cringed away from its blaze but kept gripping her firmly by the arms.

"MY CHARIOT! WHERE IS MY CHARIOT?" the goddess was shouting.

"That's-" began Tulo.

"Mari, the embodiment of the Earth. Yes, I know," Mixél finished for him.

Tulo rolled his eyes. "Trust you to know about something Spanish."

"She's Basque, actually."

"My lady, please," one of the white-robed men was saying patiently. "If you'll only calm down we will take you to your chariot, but I'm afraid you can no longer use it."

"CHRISTIANS!" shrieked Mari. "Can their _God_ show them the way when they are lost in the forest? Does he create storms that fertilise the land?"

"Yes, he can, and yes, he does," replied the other man in the same annoyingly patient tone. "If you'll just co-operate with us, we will take you to your consort-"

"_Consort!_" Mari spat. "He is my _husband_. Don't demean our union with your Christian euphemisms…" Her voice continued to echo around the entrance hall as the two men – who could only have been saints – conveyed her firmly towards the door.

The two gods stared wordlessly after her. Mixél's shoulders were slumped in disbelief.

"This is ridiculous," he said. "Who's next? Are we going to see Thor pushing a broom? Danu waving a feather duster?"

"Actually, Thor's cleaning day is only on Thursday," said an amused voice. Mixél and Tulo swung round to see a god with green skin and a long, narrow black beard leaning against the wall. He wore a tall white crown adorned with colourful feathers and carried what looked like a blue and yellow striped shepherd's crook in one hand. The other held a flail with similar colouring. "I think the Almighty found it appropriate – y'know, Thursday is Thor's day." One side of his mouth lifted in a smile.

"Wait, I know you," said Mixél. "You're…"

"Osiris, Egyptian Lord of the Dead," said the god, offering a hand. Mixél and Tulo each shook it. "Are you in need of a guide? It's what I do." He lifted the crook.

"Yes, please; we're here to see the Almighty," said Tulo. "We should have asked Zeus how to get there, but _someone_ managed to get on his bad side." He glared briefly at Mixél.

Osiris laughed, leading the way down the corridor. "Oh, don't mind old thunder-temper. He hasn't taken too well to his relocation. I suppose it must be a bit of a comedown for a King of the gods, but at least he still has an official post. I just wander around the palace, eavesdropping on saints' conversations and guiding the odd visitor."

"I don't think Mari's doing too well either," Mixél commented. "We saw her just now, shouting about a chariot…"

"Oh, yeah, she's been in here a lot," said Osiris, his expression serious, as they climbed a flight of gilded stairs. "She really hates Christians. I mean, I'm not too delighted about being displaced myself, and the angels are a bit high-and-mighty, but the saints aren't that bad. They get a pretty good deal when you think about it – when _they're_ sacrificed, they go straight to Paradise."

"Is this _really_ a paradise?" Mixél asked sceptically. Tulo nudged him, but he carried on anyway. "I'm beginning to think there's not really any such thing."

Osiris considered this. "Well, I think it used to be," he said. "But then… oh, we're here."

They were standing in front of a large pair of double doors. They didn't look any different to the rest of the palace, but the intimidating aura of holiness was back in full force, and when Tulo gingerly took hold of one of the handles, it was oddly warm.

"Good luck!" called Osiris, retreating down the corridor. Mixél took hold of the other door handle, and the two looked at each other in trepidation. They _really_ didn't want to end up on cleaning duty.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Cliffhangeerrrr! What's going to happen next?? I have no idea!

I may have gone overboard on the mythology in this chapter xD but it was SO much FUN! I always intended to put Zeus and Mari in there, and then after that Mixél and Tulo still needed someone to show them the way to the throne room, so I browsed through a list of Egyptian gods (on Wikipedia, naturally) and Osiris seemed like the perfect choice. He's so chilled xD

The vague theme of 'there's no such thing as paradise' which appeared in the chapter (completely unintentionally, I assure you; if I thought this fic had mutated before, then now, it's _warped_) I think was influenced by my study of _The Tempest_ by Shakespeare, for my English exam. I won't bother explaining here, but anyone who's familiar with _The Tempest_ should know what I'm taking about – Gonzalo's speech about the commonwealth and all that. It's an interesting concept.

I'm sorry there wasn't that much of Miguel and Tulio in this chapter, but I promise your favourite brainless duo will feature more next time.

* * *

**Glossary of Gods (and other things):**

**_'Déjà dit'_: **French for 'already said', in the same way that 'déjà vu' is French for 'already seen'. (Hands up the people who knew that already!)

**Hermes/Mercury:** The winged messenger of the gods in Greek and Roman mythology. In one hand he carried the _caduceus_, or herald's staff, with two snakes twined around it and a pair of wings at the top. Not to be confused with the medical symbol, apparently, which only has the one snake and no wings.

**Loki:** A shapeshifter from Norse mythology who was punished by the other gods by being bound to a rock with the entrails of one of his sons, with snake venom dripping down on him from above.

**St. Peter: **Traditionally, the holder of the keys to heaven. He's a nice guy really.

**Gabriel **and **Uriel: **Archangels, who are like major angels. You'll know Gabriel from the Christmas story, no doubt.

**Zeus/Jupiter: **The king of the gods in Greek and Roman mythology, one of whose symbols was a thunderbolt. I don't think he used it for writing in registers, but you never know. The image of Zeus hunched over a desk doing secretary work was supposed to be comic, but I think it became too serious x3 I hope it made you smile, anyway.

**Mari: **A goddess in Basque mythology. The personification of the Earth, she was also associated with the weather, in particular storms which fertilised the land. She rode through the sky in a chariot, pulled by rams or horses. One legend said that if you were lost in the forest, you only needed to call her name three times and she would appear to guide the way. I did Northern Spanish mythology as my Spanish oral topic last year, so I thought I'd stick a bit in here.

**Thor: **A powerful god from Norse and Germanic mythology, who had a hammer called Mjolnir that he threw at things and which would return to him. Kind of like a boomerang. The English word 'Thursday' does actually originate from Thor.

**Danu: **A mother goddess in Irish mythology. The **Tuatha Dé Danann**,a race of people in the same mythology, are named after her: the name is translated as 'people of the goddess Danu'.

**Osiris: **Egyptian Lord of the Dead. His green skin symbolised rebirth. He was a merciful judge of the dead and referred to as 'Permanently Benign', so I figured he had to be a good guy.

**Flail: **No, not the action. In short, it's a tool used in agriculture for threshing grain. The crook and flail were associated with Egyptian Pharaohs, as symbols of office, as well as with Osiris.

I'd love to say I knew all of this stuff off the top of my head, but that would be a LIE. Except for the French, I knew that. Most of the rest was just vague knowledge that I picked up from reading at some point, and I had to do a bunch of research to get details. (So many Wikipedia pages in my browser history…) If there are any mythological buffs among you who think I've got a detail wrong, let me know. Also, if you have a particular god or mythology you'd like to see in the fanfic, suggest away and I'll see what I can do. Only ancient mythology, though. Bonus points if they got pushed out by Christianity.


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